


Is It My Birthday?

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy moves about the house getting ready for her day.</p><p>Follows after She Remembers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It My Birthday?

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. No, really. Really. This is a sequel to [She Remembers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3336983).

 Darcy reached out to the bed beside her, smiling as her hand moved over the warm sheets. She rolled over into the warmth without opening her eyes, pulling the blanket up over her eyes to block out the beam of sunlight that covered that entire half of the bed. It still smelled like him, the pillow holding the scent of his shampoo and that scent that could only ever be attributed to Steve. He always got up before she did, anyway.

Eventually, though, her bladder was telling her that it was time to get up. Sighing, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, opening her eyes to see the shield leaning against the wall beside the the dresser. She shook her head. She was probably going to stub her toe on it later, she usually did at least once a day. _At least_. But he didn't like it when she moved it, he needed to be able to know where it was to grab it in a hurry. So she left it where she was.

She stood, reaching up behind her neck to untangle her thick hair from the clasp of the necklace she always wore. Her fingers combed through her hair almost absently, patiently separating out the strands of hair and wincing when she pulled once or twice.

The shower curtain was open, Steve always left the shower curtain open. At least his wet towel wasn't on the floor today, that was one of the only bad habits that man had. Darcy leaned over and adjusted the water to the perfect temperature before turning the shower on and stepping inside. She closed her eyes, letting the hot water stream down over her body and onto the floor of the shower.

The scent of his bodywash filled the shower as she soaped herself up. She must have grabbed his on accident, he always put it down in front of hers. She used it though, using her bath poof to give herself a good scrub. Even after she was clean, her hair washed, she stood under the falling water with her head bowed, letting it fall down over her. This was the closest she could get to it raining without it actually raining...

She got out and dried off, slinging her towel up over the empty towel rack before going back into the bedroom. She didn't bother making the bed, that was something Steve always did after she went out and had her coffee. It was an old habit of his, something left over from his army days. She sat in the warm sunshine while she debated what to wear, finally settling on a comfortable old pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt with one of Steve's flannel shirts pulled on over top against the lingering morning chill. Her feet went into her fluffy Captain America bear slippers and she went out of the room, down the short hall to where the smell of coffee beckoned to her.

Steve always put a fresh pot on after he emptied it in the morning, and she crossed to it, taking her favorite mug out of the cupboard just above it, setting it on the counter to pour herself a cup. It was habit, as soon as she got herself a cup she emptied out the grinds and rinsed the basket, setting it up for a fresh pot to start on the timer tomorrow. She'd fill up the water after they emptied the pot later that day.

Darcy wasn't really a breakfast person, but Steve was. His metabolism made him have to eat regularly. Leaving his dirty dishes out was another bad habit of his, but the kitchen was as clean as she'd left it last night, dishes draining in the drip tray. “Is it my birthday?” she called out to the living room with a small laugh.

She finished fixing her cup of coffee, heavy on the hazelnut flavored creamer she liked. On impulse, she checked Steve's vanilla creamer. Mostly full, that wasn't something that was going to have to go on the grocery list. The fridge was still pretty well stocked, too. They usually had to go shopping once a week, just because the man ate _so_ much, but it wasn't unlike living with Jane and Thor.

She stood in front of the sink, cup of coffee cradled in both hands as she stared out the window. They had a yard. It was a small yard, fenced in. He'd insisted on getting a house with a yard when they'd been house shopping, and she'd agreed on the condition that he would do all of the yard work. Speaking of which... “Hey, if you're not called in today, could you mow the lawn? I'll make those shortbread cookies you like.”

One hand lifted to twist the necklace absently in her fingers as she drank her coffee, looking out at the patches of sunlight across the green grass. It still looked covered in dew, she got up a lot earlier since she and Steve had moved in together.

A hand brushed against her shoulder before settling down against her arm, almost hesitantly. “Looks like it's going to be another humid day, I should probably do something with my hair before it gets too frizzy for words.”

“Darcy...” That voice, that soft voice. Deep, apologetic.

Darcy closed her eyes, shaking her head. “No.” As if by denying it, she could change it. Her fingers closed over the rings on her necklace, one that no longer fit and one that had _never_ fit her.

Cool metal brushed against her fingers, whirring softly in the still morning. He plucked the mug from her hand, she heard him settle it gently on the counter. “Come here,” he said, a hand on each shoulder turning her gently and pulling her against a warm chest.

It wasn't the right chest. It wasn't broad enough, wasn't tall enough. He smelled wrong as she nestled her cheek against him, silent tears slipping down her face. Sharper, the metal, with the total lack of sunshine that her husband had always smelled like. “Shh,” James soothed, his hand stroking over her hair as he held her close.

Her hand tightened in the fabric of his shirt, fingers balling into a fist. “I miss him so much,” she whispered, jaw trembling so hard that it was difficult to form the words.

“I know. I do too.” His lips moved against the top of her head as he held her close.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://pinkpandorafrog.tumblr.com/) fic.  
>  pamie884:  
> Wings by Birdy. Darcy/Steve, please!
> 
> I don't think this is quite what you had in mind, but it's what happened!


End file.
